


Behind The Mask

by stevierogers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, a lot of angst and feels im sorry, again im sorry for the pain ive caused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4725680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevierogers/pseuds/stevierogers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if, that day on the bridge, the mask stayed on?<br/>What if Steve had never ripped it off?<br/>What if Steve had won, and The Winter Soldier was killed?<br/>What if after that, Steve took off the mask, and saw what he'd done?<br/>What if Steve realised he'd killed his best friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind The Mask

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic that I've posted on here!
> 
> I hope you like it, please tell me if I've made any mistakes, or if you have any advice!  
> (whispers) i'd like to apologise in advance for the pain that im about to cause <33

The Soldier’s metal fist cracked the highway asphalt. The Captain got back on his feet, throwing his clenched hand straight at the Soldier. The assassin was a stranger to Steve, but he know one thing- he wasn’t on his side.

Deflecting and counter-attacking the Captain’s advances, the Soldier kicked the Captain onto the side of a nearby van. Dagger in hand, the Winter Soldier aimed and plunged right for Steve, but missed. The sharp weapon pierced the van and dragged a long slash, following the Captain’s escape.

Steve turned and grabbed the masked assailant from behind, flipping the latter over. Grabbing his shield from the van, the two re-engaged their combat. With his shield, Steve jammed the mechanical arm of the masked assailant and flipped him backwards over his shoulder.

The Soldier landed on his feet, metal fingers scraping the tar to keep his balance. He charged at the Captain, jumping in mid-air to land a kick to Steve’s chest- with no avail, thanks to the ever so handy vibranium shield. Grabbing the metal arm, Steve threw the Soldier right onto the side of the van. Punches landed on the Soldier’s abdomen during his time of vulnerability.

The crack of ribs breaking came- not from Steve. The Soldier thrusted his knee into Steve’s stomach, taking him aback. The Soldier felt his ribs- his _broken_ ribs- before coming for Steve. Punch after punch, hit after hit, shield after shield, the Soldier finally landed on his back, bruised.

Steve, also bruised and battered, walked over to the limp body of the Soldier before delivering the final blow. The once limp body of a lethal assailant; now, lifeless. Staggering, Steve got back on his feet before sighing heavily. Looking down at the corpse in front of him, he couldn’t help but think the bridge of his nose looked a lot like-

“Steve!”  
Shield at the ready, he whirled around. “Steve! You alright?” The red-haired woman said, panting.  
“What? Yeah- yeah, I’m alright,” he said, lowering his shield. He saw the bullet wound bleeding on her shoulder. “You don’t look it, though. We should get that checked out.”  
“I’ll be fine, I’ve survived worse.”  
“What happened to the rest of the HYDRA agents?”  
“Me and Sam happened.”

Steve gave a faint smile.  
“The ones that we didn’t take care of retreated,” Natasha looked over the tall blonde, eyeing the body. “We’ll have to bring that back, in case HYDRA comes looking for him.”  
All Steve could do was nod. “Sam okay?”  
She nodded. “Few bruises, but he’ll live. I’ll find him and bring up a car. You clean up the body as best you can.”

She turned to find the Falcon, leaving Steve with the stiff anatomy of the man he’d just killed. He kneeled down, next to his face. Up close, he really did look like Bucky. What if- what if he was- _No_ , he thought. _It can’t be Bucky, Buck’s long gone_.

His mind flashed back to the memories of him and his best friend; from the laughs, to the drinks, to the days where he’d been so sick he couldn’t eat. He smiled at the warmth, but the comfort immediately faded when his mind took a turn.

_Bucky was hanging onto the train by a steel rail- which was now coming loose. Steve climbed onto the dangling side of the train. “Bucky! Hang on!” He stretched his arm out towards his best pal, “Grab my hand!” Bucky reached out, trying to grab hold of his best friend’s arm._

_But the rail slipped- and so did he._

_He fell, diving into the ravine- away from Steve, forever._

Bucky’s screams echoed in Steve’s ears. He remembered that day like it happened the day before, he wouldn’t forget. He couldn’t.

Shaking his head lightly, he wiped away the tears forming. “Get it together, Rogers.”  
He lifted the robotic arm, examining it. It was intricate work, every wire and screw fixed in perfectly. He let it down gently, moving his hand to the masked face.

“Now, let’s see who you really a-”  
He froze. He couldn’t move. The mask was in his hand, up and off of the body. He stared down at the cold face in front of him; the face he had killed.  
“N-no-” He stumbled back, landing on his rear, his arms and legs going limp. “N-no, no, no, it-it can’t be- it c-can’t…” Shaking, he looked at the face one more time. “No- it- no-”

But it was undeniable. It was Bucky.  
It was Bucky’s face, Bucky’s dead body.  
It was _Bucky_ Steve had killed.

His face was covered in tears, his trembling hand touching Bucky’s cheek.  
“Oh my g- Oh god, Buck, _Buck_ , Bucky, Oh my god…”  
He cradled his head in both his hands, pulling him closer.  
“No, no, Oh god, Oh my god,” He was sobbing. “Buck, you’re- you’re alive- you- you were,”

It finally dawned on him what he’d done. He had just lost his best friend. The very best friend he had- or he thought he had lost 70 years ago. But only this time- Bucky didn’t fall off a train. This time, James Buchanan Barnes was killed- by his best friend, Steven G. Rogers.

“Buck, Oh go- B-Buck, I’m so sorry, Oh god, M’sorry, M’so sorry, what have I- Oh god,” His tears were flowing so much his vision was blurry.  
“I thought- I thought you were gone, Buck, th-thought you were _dead_ , and you were, but you weren’t, you’re ali- you w- you _were_ ,”

He pulled Bucky’s lifeless body closer, as if he could come back to life. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to his.

He hated himself; hated what he’d done. The man he’d been friends with since childhood was the same man he’d killed today. He spent years, years mourning over his death; mourning over the fact that he couldn’t even give his best friend a proper burial as they weren’t able to find his body. Years wasted away of him having flashbacks to a time where Bucky’s smile was still bright and alive; a time where everything was happier.

Words would never be able to wholly describe the self-abhorrence he was feeling. The great Captain America, the national symbol of courage, the man who gave his life for the greater good of the country; the man who had intentionally killed a HYDRA assassin, but inadvertently killed his best friend.

“I-I’m, M’sorry Buck, M-m’sorry, I didn- I- M’sorry,” he managed to choke out.

Right now, right here, on this bridge, he felt transparent. He had forgotten all accounts of emotion; except for deep misery and agony.  
_How am I supposed to live with myself?_ He thought. _How am I supposed to wake up everyday, knowing I killed my best friend? How am I supposed to go on?_

“Steve! Steve, I got a ca- Steve?”  
Natasha pulled up in a car, with Sam in the front seat. “Steve? Are you-”  
She saw the scene in front of her, and was completely confused, as was Sam.

She crouched down next to a crying Steve, putting her hand on his back. “Steve- we- we have to go, it’s not safe out in the open-”  
“Go away, please,” it barely came out a whisper. “Please, _please_ , please please please,” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for.

“Steve-”  
By this time, Sam was already here. “Nat, let him be.”  
“But-”  
“ _Let him be_ ,”  
Nat sighed, but understood somewhat. “We’ll be in the car,”

Steve didn’t slow his crying. If anything, it became faster. He couldn’t believe it- he didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t just kill his best friend, he didn’t, this isn’t the real Buck, he isn’t, he isn’t.

But he is.

Steve held on tighter, never wanting to let go.  
“Buck- Buck- I’m- m- m’sorry, m’so sorry, Oh god- no- I- _Bucky_!  
“I- I thought I’d lost you- on t-the train, you f-fell- I thought- for sure- you’d be- you’d- dead, but- you didn’t-” His breathing hastened, his chest heaving. “You didn’t- weren’t dead- you l-lived, 70 years- and- and you l-look the s-same- oh god, I’m sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry-”

But Bucky didn’t answer; he never will.

He hugged Bucky close, praying that this was a joke. A cruel, sadistic joke- or a dream. A nightmare like he always gets, but he knew. He knew this was real. He knew there was no escaping this. He had killed his best buddy. He had killed his best pal.

He had killed his Bucky.  
But Bucky didn’t recognise him, not one bit.

HYDRA had wiped him, stolen away his memories. Stripping him of everything that made him Bucky, torturing him until he succumbed and became the machine they wanted.

A thought crossed his mind.

If he hadn’t taken off the mask, he would never have known.  
He’d have went on with life, oblivious to the fact that Bucky Barnes died at his hands. He would’ve gone on missions, remembering this day as ‘the day he’d defeated HYDRA’s ultimate weapon’. He clenched his jaw, the emotional turmoil too much.

Not ceasing his crying, he looked up at Nat and Sam. His voice trembling- he said, “I-I want to b-bury him,” He looked back down to Buck, “I want to bury him m-myself,”

“But he’s a HYDRA-”  
“ _I want to bury him_!”

Nat and Sam looked to each other, puzzled. But Sam nodded, realising there must’ve been a connection between the two. Getting out of the car, Sam walked to where Steve and Bucky were.  
“Okay, come on. Get him in the car, we’ll bury him.”  
Steve looked up at Sam, and Nat who had joined them.  
“T-thank you,”

With Bucky in the backseat, still being hugged by Steve, they drove to the outskirts. On the way, they stopped by a hardware store where Nat might have stolen a few shovels and wooden planks.  
“I’m not stealing, I’m borrowing,” Nat said.

Steve couldn’t have given less of a damn. He stared at Bucky, his eyes red and swollen from all the crying. He looked at the machine that was his arm, and held it. HYDRA’d done this. They’d tortured Buck the first time, but Steve was there. He saved him. But this time- Steve wasn’t there. He couldn’t help. HYDRA did every sadistic thing imaginable to his best pal, without Steve even knowing.

“Oh my god, Buck- m-m’so sorry,” he whispered, to no one.  
HYDRA had taken the best man he’d ever known, and turned him into a killing machine. A killing machine, set out to kill Steve, but Steve had killed him.

His mind flashed to images of Bucky, in a HYDRA facility, tortured and experimented to near death- and Steve didn’t even know it was happening. He flashed to all the times Bucky’d have thought Steve would come for him, come save him, and he thought of Bucky’s face when Zola told him he’d went under.

He only hated himself even more.

“Steve?”  
He’d been repeating the words _oh god, Buck_ and _m’sorry_ throughout the whole drive.  
He barely looked up, but he gave a soft hum.  
“We’re here,” said Nat.  
Sam offered to help carry down Bucky’s body, but Steve refused. He instead searched for a good burial site while Nat took out the ‘borrowed’ shovels, wooden planks, and a tiny can of paint. They found a decent clearing, and set to work. Steve laid Bucky’s body gently down onto the grass.

They dug and dug, until the hole in the earth was finally big enough. Steve, expression sorrow, lifted Bucky and laid him 6 feet under. Sam picked up a shovel-full of soil to put in.  
“W-wait,” Steve managed.

This was it.  
Bucky’s dead. Bucky’s dead. Bucky’s dead.  
He peered into the hole in the ground one last time, just to make sure. _Bucky’s dead, passed, lost. Bucky was gone._

He closed his eyes, self-hatred and sorrow filling him.  
The memories of everything the pair had been through together were still alive and warm, but the best friend of America’s symbol of courage was dead and cold. Killed at the hands of Captain America himself. Steve let out more tears, wiping them away as he stood.

Nat handed him a shovel, which he gently took with a quivering hand. The three set to work, slowly filling the cavity. As the hole filled, Steve’s heart emptied. _Bucky’s gone, because of me- because of HYDRA._

Once it was filled in completely, Nat and Sam stood, allowing Bucky a moment of silence. They turned to the car, Sam putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We’ll be in the car.”  
Steve nodded blankly, left alone in front of the grave of James B. Barnes.

He looked around, before slowly walking towards the surrounding flora. He picked flowers, and placed them on top of Bucky’s grave. He didn’t stop until the area was completely covered in flowers, and he finally knelt beside it.

He took the wooden plank, and painted on Bucky’s epitaph with the finest calligraphy he could’ve possibly done with his shaking hand. He stabbed it into the ground right above the head of the grave. He sat down and clutched his knees to his chest.

He wasn’t crying from his eyes anymore, he was crying from his heart. He had lost Bucky once, and that was the most painful experience of his life- or so he thought. Today, he had lost Bucky again, only this time- there was no going back. No miraculous resurrections. Bucky was gone, once and for all. Knowing that is was his fault- _his fault_ Bucky was dead, made him want to physically hurt the killer; physically hurt himself.

HYDRA had turned his best pal into a monster, into a machine. Into someone Steve would kill. He gulped and looked down.  
“I’m s-sorry, Buck, I didn’t know i-it was you,” He took a deep breath, trying to prevent more tears flowing.  
“I promise, I’ll get ‘em. I’ll get every single last one of ‘em. For you. M’not gonna stop till they’re all dead and g-gone.”

He remembered a line he’d said to the late Dr. Erskine, “ _I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from_.”  
That’s true- he didn’t care where they came from. They hurt Bucky. That’s all he cares about.

“My f-first mission was to go and s-save y-you,” he said shakily. “And- and your l-last mission w-was to k-kill me.”

He turned back to the grave, a tsunami of hatred and agony washing over him.  
“When I saw it w-was you, I-” he gulped. “I wanted to die, Buck. I wanted to g-go away, wanted it all to be a b-bad dream. I d-didn’t wanna _believe_ it was y-you. I’m so sorry, Bucky.  
“ I don’t know w-what I’m gonna do after that, don’t know h-how I’ll live with myself, don’t know how I’ll w-wake up.  
“You’re dead, Buck, because of me. Me. I don’t know how to move on from this. Maybe I _won’t_ , maybe I’ll c-come back home to you after HYDRA’s d-dead and gone. Maybe I’ll-”

Silence pierced the air. A lone tear slipped down his cheek before he stumbled up. “I’m gonna visit, m’gonna make sure no one forgets you,”

He wanted to stay, but he knew he couldn’t. HYDRA was on the loose, millions of lives in danger. Bucky wasn’t going to die in vain.

The Winter Soldier was an assassin, loyal to HYDRA.  
Bucky Barnes was the best man Captain America had ever known, and Steve’d be damned if the public forgets the heroic acts of Sergeant Barnes.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

“I don’t know, Bucky. Don’t know anything.” He placed a hand on the tombstone, as if it were Bucky’s shoulder. “All I know- you were the _best damn friend_ I could’ve asked for, and I hate myself for what I’ve done. _Hate it so much._  
“I’m sorry, Buck, I- I’m so sorry. I-I-m’gonna finish the mission, gonna take out HYDRA. Gonna make them sorry for what they did to you.”

He leaned in and gently kissed the top of the engraved tombstone.  
“I love you, Buck.”

He headed towards his waiting friends, smiling faintly as he remembered the warmth they’d once had. He was going to keep his promise, going to finish the mission; eradicate HYDRA- for Bucky. He looked back; one _last_ time at the words painted on his tombstone.

 

 

_“In loving memory of_  
_James Buchanan Barnes_  
_1917 - 2014_  
_Beloved son, soldier, and friend._  
_I’m with you till the end of the line, pal,_  
_and here I am. - Steve R.”_


End file.
